The Sentinel Jedi
by theImaginatorAK47
Summary: THIS STORY WILL BE UNDERGOING A SEVERE REBOOT, FOLLOWING THE STORYLINE OF THE "REPUBLIC COMMANDO" NOVELS BY KAREN TRAVISS
1. Chapter 1: A New Jedi Revealed

**_Order 66._**

 ** _Those were dark times. When the secret behind the clones was revealed, that they were programmed from birth to betray the Jedi Order and the Republic itself. When Darth Sidious and the Empire took control, when the Sith were allowed to wreak havoc and roam free._**

 ** _When far too many Jedi fell._**

 ** _Many escaped this treachery, and many more fled and hid. And still others fought back. These were the brave few, those who refused to let the Dark side prevail._**

 ** _I was one of those few. Though I myself was more covert, and went into hiding with a specific choice of a starship. One that held hope in its existence, and one that could potentially keep the Jedi Order alive in one way or another._**

* * *

The clone trooper stood guard, rigid and unmoving. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. He held the handle of his blaster in his right hand, and the grip under the barrel in the left. Another clone stood next to him on the opposite side of the heavy door. What they were guarding was an ancient ship with a crew of one, as ancient as the ship itself. They had heard stories about it, but they weren't concerned with those right now. They were more concerned with their duties.

Behind the door was the _New Crucible,_ a ship that carried many Younglings to Ilum, a planet where young Jedi found their lightsaber crystals. The ship itself carried the parts of lightsabers, and the crew member taught each and every Jedi how to build their lightsaber correctly. Huyang was usually very wise and brave, but today, he could tell something was terribly wrong, and was very afraid.

"By whose order are you commandeering this ship, exactly?" he asked cautiously.

"Chancellor Palpatine, Professor," one of the clones responded flatly. "We were given specific orders to search every inch of this vessel and relocate any and all lightsaber parts and secure them in the vaults."

"Ah," Huyang said slowly, "I see." He watched as they pulled out several drawers and carried them out of the room. "And what is to become of me, did he say?" he asked.

"I'm… actually not sure, really," another clone responded. "We weren't given any word on what to tell you, to be honest, sir." He put a box down and picked up a body casing of a lightsaber handle. "May I ask what this is made out of?"

"Come on, Scrapper, we've no time to fiddle around," the head trooper told him. The clone put the casing back and picked up the box.

"Sorry, Professor," Scrapper said. "Perhaps I can ask you another time."

"I hope so, trooper," Huyang said, nodding slowly. He lowered his head and closed his optics. "I hope so."

* * *

The guards had just received radio confirmation that the cargo was being unloaded when they heard a strange, rhythmic sound coming down the hallway. They raised their blasters and walked slowly down the hall. They only got halfway before a cloaked figure came around the corner and stopped right in the middle of the entryway.

"Halt and identify yourself!" the clone to the left of the door shouted. The figure's head turned to look at them, and they felt a strange sense of fear come over them. The figure turned toward them and began walking straight at them.

"Stay back!" the other clone shouted. He aimed his rifle carefully and fired past the newcomer's head. Amazingly, the round never even passed the figure's head. It just stopped in midair, like it had been frozen in time. The clones both fired directly at the stranger, but the same thing happened; both shots merely froze in midair. The stranger stopped and raised his head slightly.

"Not working too well for you, is that?" he asked nonchalantly. The clones looked at each other and back to the stranger. "Tell me, how do you expect to shoot me down when you don't have working blasters?" The clones looked down at their firearms as they began to shake in their own hands. Suddenly, both rifles disassembled, their individual parts falling to the ground. The troopers looked at each other, and then felt themselves being lifted off of the ground. The figure remained still, not moving an inch. The blasts from the rifles were now pointing towards them, aimed at their respective shooters.

"You're a Jedi!" the first clone gasped.

"Very observant," the Jedi replied. "And you two are traitors. We fought side by side for years, only to have you succumb to a programming chip in your brain since birth."

"I don't remember you," the clone pointed out.

"And you never will," the Jedi said lowly. The clones' visions began to go dark, and they soon passed out. The Jedi gently lowered them to the ground and recalled the blasts to his sides. He walked forward, and the doors opened before him. A clone was just on the other side, holding a box of lightsaber parts. The two of them froze, and the clone looked at the energy blasts.

"Don't ask, just put the parts down gently and get out of the way," the Jedi said. The clone slowly obeyed and stepped to the side, falling over unconscious a few seconds later. The next few clones followed suit until the Jedi met the leader of the squadron and Scrapper, who had ran out to see what the commotion was. They drew their blasters, but they were shot out of their hands by the shots that were hovering next to the Jedi. The cloaked figure walked up to them, and the commander was suddenly levitated towards him. He hovered there for a few moments, staring the figure straight in the hood.

"Your mind is weak," the Jedi said after a few moments. "You show no resistance to the chip in your brain, and your will is meek. You are of no use to me." The commander suddenly slumped in midair, and the Jedi levitated him aside. The boxes levitated behind him as he walked towards Scrapper, who was backing into the vessel. The Jedi merely looked at him and walked past, not saying a word. The clone was just about to run when the loading ramp quickly raised itself shut, faster than it was ever known to. Scrapper froze, breathing heavily, and then walked into the main assembly room. The Jedi was putting the shelves back were they belonged very gently, lifting them up and inserting them by hand. He froze when Scrapper entered the room, and looked toward him.

"That is unnecessary, Professor Huyang," he said. "He will not harm us or this vessel." Scrapper whirled around to see the architect droid standing behind him, poised to hit him from behind. He was looking at the Jedi, his arm still raised.

"I've guarded the original build of this ship for thousands of years, and I refuse to let anyone disgrace or desecrate this new one as long as I function," the droid said sternly.

"As do I, Professor," the Jedi said, continuing his work. "But believe me, this young fellow will not bring any harm to you or the ship."

"How are you so sure?" Huyang asked skeptically.

"Well, for one thing, he has no weapon," The Jedi said, standing to face them. "That, and he has an odd gift, for being a clone trooper."

"What do you mean?" Scrapper asked.

"You, like so many of your brothers, have a strong will, a gracious heart, and a great mind," the Jedi said. "So much that you've overridden your chip's programming."

"What chip are you talking about?" Scrapper asked. The Jedi lowered his head.

"I'm sorry to do this," he said. "But otherwise it would be far too painful."

"What-?" Scrapper began to ask, but staggered to the floor, his world going black. He blacked out, falling forward onto the ground. Huyang relaxed and knelt down to the clone, looking at the Jedi.

"You did that?" he asked.

"Yep," the cloaked figure said, returning to the shelves.

"Why?" the professor asked.

"Because he needs my help, and I need his," the Jedi replied. "I could fight a war on my own, but my chances of success would diminish greatly with each passing day. That, and clones like him deserve a chance at redemption." He picked up a drawer, looking at its contents "Ooh, I could use that one," he said quietly, and put the drawer down on the table. Huyang got a glimpse of his hand as it stretched out from beneath the cloak. It seemed to be covered in metal!

"Who are you?" the professor asked. "Why have you come to this ship of all ships?" The Jedi turned to look at him, standing still for a few seconds. He then slowly reached up and removed the hood of the cloak.

His head was protected by a black and blue helmet, its design quite exquisite. A black visor hid his face, and a gold-and-silver crest donned the front of the top of the helmet, which jutted out to a point. Two angular antennae rose up from either side of the helmet. The jawline of the helmet was angular, and the part that covered his mouth was broad and pointed, the chin of it sticking out and coming to a point. As the hood fell, it was evident that something underneath the cloak was jutting upward from each of his shoulders.

"My name is Bahsé Sigré," the Jedi said. "And this is one of the most sacred ships of the Jedi. I came here to protect it, and to keep it secret from any who would wish to bring harm to it."

"And just how do you expect to do that when reinforcements are inbound?" the droid asked. Bahsé's head rose slightly, and he shifted his weight to one leg.

"Forgot about that," he said.


	2. Chapter 2: Rescuing Younglings

Several clones were running down the hallway to the platform, blasters at the ready. There were five missile launchers amongst the crew, and ten heavy artillery haulers. When the sergeant in charge turned the corner, he held up a hand to halt his battalion. The two clone troopers guarding the door were just regaining consciousness, groaning as they slowly rose to their feet.

"What happened here?" the sergeant asked them.

"Sir, a Jedi got through to the _New Crucible,_ " one of the guards said, standing up straight. "We fired at him, but he stopped our shots and disassembled our blasters."

"What do you mean he stopped your shots?" the sergeant asked.

"The shots just stopped in midair, sir," the other clone said, putting a hand to his knee to brace himself. "They never even touched him." The sergeant straightened up. He had never heard of anything like this happening. He looked over his shoulder.

"Medics, get these men somewhere safe," he said. "This Jedi's a tough one."

"That's the thing, sir," the first clone said. "If he's that good, why didn't he kill us?" Before the sergeant could think of an answer, they heard the sound of engines preparing for launch.

"Get those doors open!" he shouted, and the battalion fell back as two of the missile launchers took their positions and fired, blasting the doors away.

"Well, they're here," the Jedi said from the cockpit. He flipped a switch and grabbed hold of the steering, pulling it back. The ship began to rise, gracefully and slowly lifting up from the platform. Huyang watched as the battalion ran out from the smoking doorway, aiming their guns at the ship.

"They're aiming at us," he said worriedly.

"I know, I know," Bahsé said as he looked around. "Please tell me they put a shield in, please tell me they put a shield in," he said to himself. A few blaster shots pinged off the windshield as the clones opened fire. "Oh, well at least they reinforced the windows, that was smart," he said. "Ah, thank goodness," he said, reaching forward to press a button. "They _did_ put in shielding!"

"Fire missiles!" the sergeant shouted, and the clones took their positions. They knelt down in an arrow formation and launched their artillery. The projectiles zoomed toward the ship and exploded, but no damage was done. Bahsé and Huyang peered out the window, looking at the smoke that rolled over the exterior.

"Some heavy-duty shielding, that is," the Jedi remarked.

"Well, after the last _Crucible's_ adventure on Florum, I'm not surprised," Huyang said, walking over to a side panel. "Thankfully, that's not all that this ship was equipped with."

"Oh, you're kidding," the Jedi said, turning to the droid. "You mean they put guns on this thing?"

"They did indeed," the professor replied.

"Sweet!" Bahsé cheered. The guns lowered from the underside of the ship and took aim at the clones, opening fire and forcing them back into the hallway.

"Retreat! Fall back!" the sergeant shouted, diving into the hallway with the last of his troops. He watched as the ship turned and flew off, not into space but off to the right.

"Where are we going?" Huyang asked. "We have to get out of here! There'll be more clones waiting for us wherever we're going!"

"I don't doubt that," the Jedi said. "But there are a few young Jedi that I think would be grateful to be rescued. And I'm sure they'd be glad to see you again." He turned to look at his companion out of the side of his visor. Huyang wasn't certain, but he was willing to bet that the Jedi was smiling.

"You mean the last group of Younglings that I taught?" the professor asked.

"The very same crew," Bahsé said, steering the vessel toward the Jedi Temple. He looked forward and became very solemn. "I only hope that they are alive by the time we get there."

"Then we'd better hurry," Huyang said. "One of those little ones is a rather headstrong chap, and prefers to fight rather than make a tactical retreat."

"Well, he'll be a fun one to work with," the Jedi muttered.

* * *

The clone commander looked up and down the hallway slowly, both blasters in his hands. The purple stripes on his helmet gave the impression of angry eyebrows over black eye holes. He had two troopers behind him, his best two soldiers from his squad.

"Stay alert, you two," he said sternly. "Those Jedi kids are small and can slip away fairly easily. That makes it easier for them to ambush us without being seen too soon."

"Yes, sir," the soldiers said simultaneously. They both bore similar stripes of purple on their armor that ran down their extremities. One's helmet was decorated with angular stripes from under the eyes while the other's helmet sported triangles positioned above and below his.

"So where do you think they'll come from, Mute?" the one with the angular stripes asked. The one with the triangles aimed his blaster at the upper vents and the doors, holding a hand up with two fingers outstretched. "Very subtle, I suppose," the other replied. "What do you think, boss? Vents and doors, in teams of two?" he asked their commander.

"I wouldn't short-sight myself to such obvious opportunities, Banx," the commander said. "But then again, they are only Younglings, so they may not be all that clever. Toss a gas grenade in the vents just to be safe, though." The two clones nodded and opened the vent covers nearest to them. They took a small cylindrical canister from their belts and lobbed them in the vents, putting the covers back quickly.

The gas immediately seeped throughout the ventilation system, spreading straight to the Younglings hiding inside. They covered their mouths and silently crawled the opposite way. The six young Jedi made their way towards the outside landing, where the young Wookie kicked the vent open. He looked around and leapt down, signaling an all-clear to the others. One by one they jumped down, the last of them a young female Tholothian, who slumped against the wall.

"Why is this happening?" she asked frantically. "Why are these clones after us?"

"I don't know, Katooni," the young Nautolan named Zatt told her. "It doesn't make sense to any of us. All that I can tell you right now is that we need to get out of here, and fast."

"And just how are we supposed to do that, Zatt?" the young Rodian named Ganodi asked, hands on her hips. "We have no backup, no plan, no way of getting off this planet, and we're out in the open, just waiting for an attack!" At that exact moment, the clone commander and several more clones burst through the door, taking positions and aim. The young Jedi drew their lightsabers and took defensive positions.

"Looks like this is it, guys," the young human, Petro, said. "It's been an honor knowing you all."

"Prepare to fire!" the commander shouted. All blasters cocked at once, and the Younglings tightened their grips. The commander raised his hand and was about to fire when he looked up slightly, as if he were listening for something.

Sure enough, there was a low, rumbling noise, and it seemed to be getting closer. The young Ithorian, Byph, looked over the edge of the platform and jumped back, exclaiming in surprise. The Younglings turned and watched as a massive, familiar-looking ship rose up from beneath it. The guns on the starboard hull took aim and opened fire, blasting the platform in front of the troopers and forcing them back into the building. The ship turned so that its bow was facing the Younglings, and the ramp lowered to let them on. Running down the ramp to meet them was a figure with a strange helmet and a cloak, and he stopped just in front of the small group.

"Hurry, young ones, hurry!" the mysterious man shouted, motioning for them to get on the ship. "We don't have much time! Get in the vessel, now!" The Younglings looked amongst themselves, unsure if they could trust this being or not.

"Get them!" a voice shouted from behind them. The commander and his troops had come back out of the building and proceeded to open fire. In a blur, the cloaked figure leapt over the Younglings, reaching for his back as he did so. He hit the ground and rolled, stopping in a kneeling position with a double-bladed lightsaber handle in his hand. He activated both blades, one blue and one green, and deflected several shots into the knees of the troopers.

"Get on the ship, _now!"_ the Jedi bellowed. The Younglings booked it into the ship, scampering up the ramp as their rescuer proceeded to spin his lightsaber in a windmill motion, blocking the clones' fire and moving back toward the ship. "Professor! Get us out of here!" he shouted as he backed onto the ramp and withdrew his lightsaber as it closed. The ship rose into the air, turned, and flew off into the sky. The clone commander, Mute, and Banx were the only clones left standing to watch the vessel disappear.

"Should we chase after them?" Banx asked.

"After what just happened to these men?" the commander replied, motioning to the clones laid out in front of them, clutching their knees and groaning. "We need to get these men to an infirmary, now."

* * *

"Thanks, Professor, I can take it from here," the Jedi said, sitting in the main pilot's seat and inserting a set of coordinates. The Younglings walked into the cockpit, and Petro crossed his arms.

"So who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

"The man who is disappointed at not hearing a 'thank you' from any of you, for one thing," the Jedi said flatly. Petro's face reddened as he shuffled behind the others. "I can't say I blame you, though," he added. "You've been through a lot today, so I think it's best if we get to the safest place in the galaxy. Better hold on to something, though, because we're getting there right about… now." With that, he pushed a lever forward, and the vessel burst forward into hyperspace.

The Younglings did a surprisingly good job of keeping themselves in place during the initial burst of speed. Huyang had braced himself in the doorway, holding on with one hand. Within seconds, everyone adjusted to the speed change, and their pilot stood up.

"In case you're still wondering, my name is Bahsé Sigré," he said as he crossed his arms. "I'm a Jedi Sentinel."

"A Sentinel?" Katooni asked. "Isn't that, like, the lowest class of Jedi?" The taller Jedi's head snapped to look at her, and he growled slightly, more out of irritation than anger.

"We may not be as well-known or as commonly relied on as Consulars, Knights, or Guardians," he said lowly, "but we are by no means to be seen as the weakest of the Jedi. Every Jedi has their strengths, and the strengths of the Sentinels is in the intuition and middle-road approach to problems. We're basically balanced between Consular and Guardian, blending the teachings of both schools and amplified them with several non-Force skills." He shifted his weight to his other leg. "We're also more covert, and if I recall… there's actually a secret base, a dojo of some sorts, where other Sentinels reside…" he said in thought.

"What kind of non-Force skills are you talking about, exactly?" Ganodi asked. Gungi voiced his agreement in the question. Before the Sentinel could answer, the console of the ship began to chime an alarm, and he turned to re-enter the pilot seat.

"That's a story for another time, young ones," he said. "We're coming out of hyperspace." He pulled the hyperdrive lever back and grabbed hold of the steering. "We're here." As the ship slowed rapidly and reached its destination, the Younglings all yelped in fear.

Looming ahead of them, silently moving forward in deep space, was a _Venator-_ class Republic attack cruiser.

"Are you crazy?!" Katooni shrieked. "We're gonna get killed!" The armored Jedi merely chuckled and pushed a button on the console.

"This is Bahsé Sigré piloting the _New Crucible,_ hailing the cruiser _Guardian._ I have another batch of survivors and am requesting permission to dock," he said calmly.

"About time, boss!" a cheerful female voice responded. "We were starting to get worried. R1 has been pacing back and forth for nearly fifteen minutes!"

Bahsé laughed. "Tell the little guy I'll be waiting for him in the hangar," he said. And let the crew know I made it back okay."

"Will do, boss," the female said. "Over and out!" With that, Bahsé steered the vessel to the underside of the flagship, lining up carefully and docking with the larger ship almost flawlessly. He shut down the engines and turned around to face the Younglings, standing up and crossing his arms.

"Younglings, Professor," he said, spreading his arms. "Welcome to the _Guardian_. My flagship." He strode forward, his cloak billowing behind him. The others followed him out of the cockpit and watched as he hefted the still-unconscious clone trooper into his arms. They all walked out of the docking port to the much larger ship, where two clone medics greeted them. They wore no armor and only grey uniforms. One clone had a pointed goatee with a blue stripe down the center, while the other had three stripes of blue in his hair, one running down the center and the others placed on either side. The Younglings jumped back, but Bahsé approached the two of them calmly, carrying Scrapper over to a stretcher they had set off to the side.

"Take care of him, and get that chip removed," he told the clones. "I don't wanna risk it staying in him."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison. "Find something special about this guy, did you, boss?" the clone with the goatee asked.

"I found something interesting about all you boys, Streak," the Jedi replied with a chuckle. "This one's no different. His name is Scrapper, and he has a certain interest in tinkering, it seems."

"He took a particular interest in a lightsaber handle before you arrived," Huyang said from behind them. "He asked me what material is was made out of in the middle of their raiding the ship." Bahsé looked to the medics and nodded.

"Like I said, he's just as interesting as the rest of you," he told them. "I'll let the doctor know you're on your way down." With that, the medics nodded and moved their brother down the hallway. Bahsé put two fingers to one of the antennas on his helmet, establishing a comm link to the medical bay within the ship. "Doctor? It's Sigré. I got another clone for you to help out. Streak and Ridge are on their way down with him now. Goes by the name of Scrapper." There was a brief pause. "Well, from what I hear, he likes to tinker, so may I suggest giving him something to work on with his hands when he wakes up?" He shuffled his weight and exhaled, seeming to think about something. "Ohh… well, Professor Huyang here says that he took an intere—huh? Yes, _the_ Professor Huyang. From the old _Crucible,_ yep. I'll let him know," the Jedi said with a chuckle, turning to look at the droid. "The doc wants to know if you'd be willing to help Scrapper actually build some sort of lightsaber or another kind of light weapon or tool when he wakes up," he said.

"Well, I've never had to help a clone build a Jedi's piece of equipment before," Huyang said. "But I suppose if I show him the diagram, he may be able to build one. I'll go get some drawers." The professor turned and went back into the _New Crucible,_ and Bahsé looked to the Younglings. They were exchanging glances amongst themselves, unsure of how to respond to all of this. The older Jedi knelt down in front of them.

"You have nothing to fear, young ones," he said gently. "You are in a safe place now. No harm will come to you here."

"How do you know none of these clones will eventually attack us?" Zatt asked, skeptical. Byph grunted a question of his own, and Bahsé straightened up.

"The reason the clones attacked you at the Jedi Temple is because they were following Order 66," he said solemnly. "Each clone had a certain chip implanted into their brains when they were still infants on Kamino. I made the discovery when the few clones I worked with tried to turn on me. I rendered them unconscious and scanned them, detecting an anomaly in their heads. I brought them to the doctor on this ship, who was at the time on Coruscant, where he discovered and removed their chips."

"When you say 'each clone'," Katooni asked, "does that mean…?" The Sentinel lowered his head.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said lowly. "Almost every clone in the Republic has turned on their Jedi general and executed them on the spot. A few resisted, but I'm afraid it is not entirely enough to make a substantial difference now."

"What about Obi-wan Kenobi?" Petro asked. "Was he killed, too?"

"Actually, as it turns out, he managed to survive the attack from his battalion," Bahsé said cheerfully. "He sent out a message for all Jedi coming to Coruscant to turn around and do what they could to hide or avoid capture." Petro let out a sigh of relief. "There are a few Jedi who survived, and I've done what I can to locate them and bring them here, but I have no idea where Masters Yoda or Kenobi have gone," the Sentinel said. He looked back to Byph. "And to answer your question, Byph, there are less than two hundred clones aboard this ship, all with their chips removed, so you should have no worries about any of them attacking you."

He stood back up as Huyang returned with a few boxes of parts. "Why don't we help the professor get these down to the medical bay?" he suggested. "You can meet some of my crew on the way there."


	3. Chapter 3: Refugees of the Guardian

There were surprisingly few crew members on the way to the medical bay. Bahsé reassured the Younglings that the most of them were either occupied with other duties or getting some much-deserved sleep.

Just as they turned down the hallway to the medical bay, a series of rapid chirps and beeps caught Bahsé's attention. The Younglings looked down the hallway to see a rather hefty astromech droid with a silver dome and a black body with golden panels rolling at him with remarkable speed for its type. Bahsé gently gave Ganodi the drawer he was carrying and ran down the hall partway to meet it, kneeling down and putting a hand on its dome.

"Hey, R1!" he said cheerfully. "How've you been, buddy?" The astromech responded with a series of cheerful beeps and chirps, and then looked past the Jedi to peer at the Younglings entering the medical bay. He questioned Bahsé with another series of bleeps.

"No, no, they're survivor Younglings," he said, turning around. "I'm thinking about training them with the survivors we managed to rescue. They're inexperienced, but they have plenty of ambition. And with all that's going on, I suppose they'll gain some experience soon enough." He stood up and walked with his smaller partner to the medical bay. "I just hope I can keep them all safe." He passed through the doorway and looked to the Younglings standing around the operating table. "Ready to start, Doc?" he asked.

"I am, Master Sigré," the doctor said. "I'm more than happy to help anyone, whether they're Jedi or not."

"Younglings, Professor, I'd like to introduce you to Doctor Rig Nema," the armored Jedi said. "A Jedi doctor that was stationed at the Jedi Temple. One of her more recent patients was actually Grand Master Yoda himself!" He crossed his arms as the Younglings voiced a chorus of awe, looking to the doctor and smiling.

"Now, now, Younglings," she said. "I'll ask any questions you have a soon as I'm done operating on this clone. If you'll excuse me," she said, pulling the clone's gurney into another room and closing the door. Huyang turned to Bahsé.

"How long will Scrapper be unconscious for?" he asked.

"Until Nema is done operating on him," the Jedi replied. "I put him under with those instructions in his sub consciousness. He won't know what's happening in there until the operation is finished."

"And how do you know he's not a plant?" Huyang asked. "How do you know he's not awake, killing Doctor Nema as we speak? How do you know he was faking his kindheartedness?"

"I felt it," Bahsé said shortly. "That clone… there's something about him. I'm not sure, but… something tells me I should take him to Ilum."

"A clone?!" Huyang asked, dumbfounded. "You think a clone would actually be gifted with the Force?"

"Well, maybe he is, maybe he isn't and I just feel like taking a trip to the crystal caverns, but we'll never know until we find out, will we? And maybe he won't need a lightsaber. Perhaps he'll become an archivist or a guard or maybe join Dr. Nema! I say we give this guy a chance. He did seem rather curious about lightsaber parts, you told me," Bahsé pointed out.

"Yes, and _you_ said he's a tinkerer," Huyang responded. "He might've just been curious."

"But why about a lightsaber?" Bahsé countered. "And why that particular part? I'm guessing he carried plenty of boxes out, but he only asked about that one, did he not?" Huyang began to protest, holding up a finger, but he slowly lowered it without saying a word.

"That's one of the reasons you wanted him to have the lightsaber parts, right?" Petro asked.

"Excellently perceptive of you, Petro!" Bahsé remarked.

"But how could a clone be Force-talented?" Katooni asked.

"The Force works however it wants to, dear young one," Bahsé said. "I don't know why this clone in particular was chosen, but I guess we'll find out eventually."

"Eventually is right, you haven't given us a debriefing yet!" a familiar voice said from behind him. Everyone turned to see a young female Twi'lek standing in the doorway. She was a head shorter than the Jedi, which was actually surprisingly tall, as Bahsé himself was nearly seven feet tall! She wore a dark brown vest over a light grey long sleeved shirt and blue cargo pants. She wore a small helmet with goggles propped on top and jointed magnifying glasses folded to the sides. Her emerald eyes looked at her friend as she gave him a grin.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet my chief engineer and dear friend, Salma Olonda," Bahsé cheerfully introduced her.

"You can call me Sal," she said. "I'd be happy to show you around the ship as soon as the boss man here tells his frantic passengers what the heck is going on." She raised an eyebrow at him and put her hands on her hips.

"Ah, yes, the other rescued parties," Bahsé said. "Katooni, Ganodi, Zatt, you can stay here with Professor Huyang and wait for Dr. Nema to finish while the others and I meet our passengers in the hangar area. Scrapper may need your guidance when he comes to." With that, he strode out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him. R1 followed right behind him as Salma took the lead. Petro, Byph and Gungi followed them out while the others took seats and waited patiently.

* * *

A massive crowd had gathered in the center of the main hangar, full of mixtures of species, Jedi and regular people. They were all talking amongst themselves, but there was one sad distinction; some of the Jedi had separated and were in their own group. Others had managed to mingle, but it was still pitiful to see that the "Chancellor" had convinced so many people that Jedi were traitors.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Sal shouted, her voice echoing throughout the hangar. "May I introduce the commander of this flagship and the one who orchestrated this rescue mission, Bahsé Sigré!" A small applause broke out, and the armored Jedi stepped forward, raising a hand to silence them.

"Please, everyone, there's no need," he said, his voice reverberating through several hidden speakers. "I'm merely doing my job as a Jedi, which is saving lives and protecting those who need it most."

"As far as we know, you could all be traitors!" a man shouted from within the crowd. The armored Jedi followed the voice and began walking toward the crowd. The people separated, allowing him to come face to face with the man who spoke up. He wasn't all that muscular, but he carried himself fairly well. He came up to Bahsé's chin, and was staring him right in the visor. He stopped a few feet away from him.

"What if I told you the real traitor was Chancellor Palpatine?" he asked flatly. "That he is, indeed, the Dark Lord Sidious? That he orchestrated most of the war, and the execution of several Jedi by the hands of their own clones?" The man's eyebrows furrowed.

"I'd say you could be lying through that shiny helmet of yours!" he barked back. Bahsé raised his left hand abruptly, causing several people to jump back in reflexive fear. He reached over and pushed a button on the raised gauntlet, which lowered the lights immediately. A hologram appeared behind the crowd. They all turned to see Obi-Wan Kenobi standing before them, his head almost reaching the ceiling. The entire hangar went silent except for his own echo as he spoke.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed. And our future…is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust… our faith… our friendships… But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always." The hologram quivered out, and the lights brightened again. All eyes turned to the accusing man, who stood still.

"Now, that may not explain what exactly happened," Bahsé said, "but I assure you, the Jedi are not to be held accountable for the destruction and chaos that is going on. We are forced into hiding now. Luckily for all of you," he said, crossing his arms, "you have the best Jedi for that job running this ship. My chief engineer, Sal, will be keeping this vessel running smoothly with her hand-picked crew. Speaking of the crew, you may notice some clones here and there, but trust me, they were my own soldiers, and they will bring you no harm unless you provoke them or me.

"You all have designated quarters, and don't worry, we're currently retrofitting the ship for more comfortable living conditions. Senators and other esteemed guests will be in one wing, my crew and I have our own sections, and all Force-talented passengers are currently having their rooms constructed. Therefore, I apologize, but we may have to spread you throughout the ship until your rooms are completed. For those of you interested in training, we have one of the hangars secluded for Jedi training, all ranks and courses. Professor Huyang himself is aboard, and will be willing to assist any Jedi interested in constructing their lightsaber aboard the _New Crucible._

"If you are anxious to reach your destination, please discuss it with either myself or the pilot, who was unfortunately unable to attend this meeting, but trust me, you'll know who it is. Please keep in mind that during this time, some destinations may be harder to reach or access than others, seeing as how many are being blockaded. And for those of you wondering about whether or not the Empire will find us all the way out here, don't worry. This ship is currently in Hutt Space. We will frequently be making chartered jumps to random places throughout the galaxy."

"What if the Empire makes a jump to the same place?" a random civilian asked.

"Then we'd best hope it's only a single cruiser and not a whole fleet," the Sentinel said, his cloak billowing behind him as he turned to leave. "Otherwise, I don't have an answer to that. Meeting adjourned. Please follow Sal and R1-DS for your room designation."


	4. Chapter 4: Sigre's Girls

"So now what?" Petro asked.

"Now we return to see what progress Doctor Nema has made," the tall Jedi said without turning to face him. "I need to talk to Scrapper."

The doors to the medical bay slid open, and the group was greeted by the rest of the ecstatic Younglings. Scrapper was sitting up on a bed, the box of parts next to him but untouched. He looked up at the tall armored figure as he approached.

"You brought me here?" he asked.

"Yes," the Jedi replied. "You are safe now, Scrapper. You have family here," he said as he gestured to the medical officer clones standing in the room. They nodded to him, and he gave a small wave back.

"Why exactly did you bring these?" Scrapper asked, motioning to the lightsaber parts. "Are you going to build more?"

"Well, no, I'm not," Bahsé said. "A lightsaber is built according to either personal preference or what the builder feels through the Force."

"That's how Gungi's lightsaber came to be encased in the wood of a Brylark tree!" Zatt explained. The young Wookie brought out his lightsaber for the clone to observe. The clone leaned forward, eyeing the device closely.

"Impressive," he said. "Very aesthetic, and yet functional and practical." Bahsé and Huyang shared a glance.

"Ever think of… I dunno, tinkering with one of these before?" the Jedi asked.

"Once or twice, maybe," the clone said. "I always wanted to ask my general if I could look at it and figure out how it works, but I was afraid I would screw something up that would end up badly."

"Well, you've got plenty of parts to work with here," Bahsé said, gesturing to the boxes. "And Professor Huyang here has a diagram that you can follow; it'd make it easier for you than trial and error. I think you should give it a shot. At least try to build one first, and if you're successful… who knows? We just might have to find you a crystal to activate it."

There was a knock at the doorway, and everyone turned to see a clone in dark grey armor, with a maroon stripe running diagonally across his torso from his left shoulder to his right hip. His scout trooper helmet hid his face. "Excuse me, General Sigré?" he asked. "There's a transmission coming in for you. Urgent request."

"Thanks, Foxx," the Jedi said, walking over to him. He turned and put a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone, this here is Foxx. He's the scout of the squad I rolled with in the war," he introduced. "We've seen plenty of action together. Think you could indulge them in a bit of story-telling?" he asked the squad mate.

"Sure, I don't see why not," Foxx said and took his helmet off, revealing his green eyes and auburn hair with a dark red stripe down the middle. "Although, to be fair, Stitch and Kinn are much better at this than I am."

"You'll do fine," Bahsé said, patting the clone's shoulder and walking away, bringing his left arm up and activating the holo-projector. "This is Bahsé."

"Big Brother Bahsé!" a playful voice said. The hologram of a young Pantoran woman rezzed up, smiling at him. "Beat me to the ship, I see?"

"Hey, Kayla!" the Jedi laughed. "Yeah, just got back a few minutes ago. Managed to rescue a few Younglings and Professor Huyang. And another clone."

"No fair, you always get the really cool ones!" the young woman protested.

Bahsé chuckled. "You on your way?" he asked.

"Just coming out of hyperspace now," Kayla replied. As if on cue, a proximity alert began to blare, but was quickly silenced as a crew member spoke over the intercoms.

"Please remain calm," the voice said. "Just an automatic proximity alarm. The incoming ship is friendly, repeat, friendly."

"Usually depends on the mood of the pilot, really," the Jedi said.

"Hey!" the young woman shouted, and Bahsé laughed playfully.

"Oh, I'm just giving you crap," he said. "Did you get what you went out for?"

"Yep! Enough food and necessities to keep the people on the ship happy for at least another month," Kayla said, glancing behind her. "Y'know, give or take. Wasn't too hard getting the guy to cooperate, really, he was practically drooling over himself at us."

"'Us'?" Bahsé asked, confused. "Who else went with you?" Kayla froze for a second, and then looked sideways at him.

"You mean… you don't know?" she asked tentatively. The armored helmet tilted down, the signature sign of trouble.

"Kayla," the Jedi said slowly. "Who's on board your ship?"

"Guess the cat's out of the bag," a voice said as another woman came into view on the holovid. "Glad to see you made it back safely, Bahsé," she said.

"Kürmé?!" the man squawked. "I thought you were going to stay on the ship!"

"And I thought I told you that you shouldn't worry about me so much," the woman replied, crossing her arms. "You know I know how to take care of myself, and besides, we never left each other's' sight unless we were both onboard."

"Look, we're both alright," Kayla piped in. "Nothing to worry about, promise!"

"But I do anyway," Bahsé muttered, sighing. "Alright, we'll see you when you land." With that, the call ended. He put a hand to his helmet's visor. These two were going to be the death of him, he knew it.

Kayla the Pantoran was the little sister he never had, so he was usually the overprotective big brother that she never had… or wanted, for that matter. He was even more protective during these times, but he knew her well enough to let her do whatever she wanted most of the time. She was the pilot to her own ship, a Corellian YT-2000 model freighter, painted blue just like her people. She was _the_ only one to fly it, apart from Bahsé once or twice, and she knew it inside and out better than anyone. She could tell what was wrong with it before it even reached a full idling cycle.

Although she could be a bit childish and flirtatious at times, she was more than prepared to give anyone a good what-for. She packed three pistols; two GL-77s and a GL-28, and she knew how to use them. She was also remarkably fit, seeing as how she kept her own ship intact with her smarts on machines. She and Sal were best girlfriends, talking shop and giggling about boys whenever they got the chance.

Kürmé, however… oh, she just might give him a heart attack someday. Either from scaring the daylights out of him by doing something risky or by doing something a little more intimate that he would never see coming. The two had been dating for a few years, ever since they met on Alderaan. She could get heads to turn, there was no denying that. But Bahsé could always get them to turn right back, almost causing a massive amount of whiplash cases whenever he walked into a room after she did. He was privately proud of that little tidbit, but was even more openly proud to know that if anyone tried anything sneaky, they would have a dagger and/or a knife or two at their necks in a heartbeat.

Bahsé made his way to the hangar, where the light freighter made its way to the back of the central bay area and landed. The ventral bay doors slid shut, the sound of the locks echoing throughout the area. The Jedi made his way to the ship as its starboard docking ramp lowered. Two modified ASP labor droids made their way down one at a time, both towing two crates behind them. They nodded to the tall man, and he nodded back. He looked up and crossed his arms as the two women made their way down the ramp.

Kayla Sequinn stood at 5' 7", her blue skin oily and greasy as usual. She was a very attractive Pantoran, with an oval jawline and purple hair that had a blue streak in it. She wore a violet vest jacket with maroon borders over a black belly shirt, mahogany pants, black fingerless gloves and black shoes. Emerald earring studs glinted off her lobes. Her fit and curvy figure usually caught several stares, and she sometimes used that to her advantage. However, when it came to flirting, it was always on her own terms. Men always knew when to shut up and back off; the hint was on most occasions a blaster barrel in their face.

Kürmé Pur'gil always seemed to glow to Bahsé. Her gorgeous brown and green eyes captivated him the most, but her other features were never ignored. She had an oblong jawline and high cheekbones, and her tan skin was very radiant whenever she smiled. Her dark brown hair, now in a ponytail, usually fell to the center of her back. Her teardrop-shaped sapphire necklace glinted in the lights, the sterling silver chain blending in with her grey shirt that she wore under a red light jacket.

The Jedi took off his helmet and beamed at the two of them, opening his arms wide as Kayla came running up to him, almost tackling him in her usually-energetic hugs.

"Where are my boys?" she asked playfully, looking up at her surrogate brother.

"Foxx is telling stories to the group of Younglings I rescued," Bahsé said. "Not sure where the others are."

"Yo! Kayla!" a voice shouted from across the hangar. The three of them turned to see three clones walking towards them side by side. The one in the middle held his arms out, his green eyes sparkling. He had black hair, and a thin beard that stretched as he grinned widely. Kayla ran right over to him, causing him to grunt as she hugged him in her usual way. He laughed and hugged her back, giving her a light noogie as she stepped back to hug the other two. The one on the right had short blonde hair, light brown eyes, and a tattoo of a crosshairs around his right eye. The other had dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and a soul patch.

"Well, there's a few of them," Bahsé said as he turned to Kürmé, smiling. "Hey there," he said.

"Hi," the woman replied, standing on her toes to give him a kiss on the lips. Bahsé lightly put an armored hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Kürmé cradled his head in her hands for a few seconds before breaking the kiss. "How was the trip to Coruscant?" she asked.

"Well, it could have been better," Bahsé said sadly. "It's a horror now…dead Jedi all over the place, clones running around shooting every last one of them…it's a nightmare." His gaze dropped to the side. Kürmé gently turned his head to look at her.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly. Bahsé smiled and held her hand to his face for a moment before taking it in his.

"There's nothing either of us could have done," he said. "We never saw it coming. We're lucky to be alive… to still have each other."

Kürmé smiled, but suddenly looked concerned. "Bahsé," she said. "Did you find…him?"

Bahsé's mouth thinned as he shook his head. "No," he replied. "I couldn't find Sinube anywhere. Not even in the Archives. I'm hoping he managed to make it out of there. I'm guessing Yoda's alive as well, I didn't see him anywhere, either…" He let out a slow breath through his nose. "He has to be alive, Kürmé. I can feel it."

"I know," Kürmé said as she kissed him again. "And I know you'll find him eventually. But first, let's focus on helping the ones we have onboard, huh?"

The Jedi nodded, donning his helmet again. He gave Kürmé a quick, light hug, and then turned to follow the worker droids, his cloak billowing behind him.


	5. Chapter 5: The Padawan Returns

"And that, little guys, is what happens when you mix explosives with EMPs," Foxx said, grinning.

"You guys must've been on a lot of adventures," Petro said, stars in his eyes.

"Oh, we've been on plenty," the scout said, standing up and leaning back on the wall. "Some even gave our commander grey hairs."

"That rough, huh?" Scrapper asked, examining a handle piece. "I never really got into it that much, sorry to say."

"Don't you dare be sorry about it," Foxx said sternly. The Younglings looked at Foxx worriedly, and the clone in grey groaned and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry," he said. "We saw a lot of our brothers die on several of those missions… and none of it was pretty. I don't know how we managed to keep ourselves together all these years, but… with what's going on right now…"

"It's best not to focus too much on the ugly details," Doctor Nema said. "That fills our hearts and minds with doubt and negativity. Too much of that can cloud your perspective of the universe."

"Well, I don't really see how it could be great right now," Foxx said sadly.

"Well, you're alive, aren't you?" Katooni asked. Foxx looked to her and nodded after a moment.

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"And you've got a Jedi who cares about you and is willing to die to protect you, right?"

"Yes…?"

"Then I'd say it's a lot better than what other people are facing right now."

Foxx stood still, his eyes distant. After a moment he smiled at the Youngling and nodded. "Thanks, kid," he said. "I needed that." Katooni smiled and turned when she heard a frustrated growl.

"I can't make up my mind!" Scrapper groaned.

"The parts of the lightsaber and the way it fits together is not always decided by the wielder," Huyang said, taking the pieces from Scrapper and putting them back in the box. He then spread the boxes out around him and took his hand. "Hold out your hand, and close your eyes," the professor said. "Clear your mind; no schematics, no plans, nothing. Just let your mind flow freely, and let the Force tell you what your lightsaber feels like."

Scrapper looked at the droid with a cocked eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Zatt said. "That's how we all got ours. Heck, Gungi here felt that his was made out of the wood from a Brylark tree! And the ship just happened to have one onboard!"

Scrapper raised his other brow in surprise and looked back to Huyang. The droid nodded slowly, and the clone let deep breath. He closed his eyes and straightened his back. He cleared his mind of everything; there was nothing on his mind. He just let his mind empty. Nothing was there. He felt very calm, very relaxed. He felt…

His fingers twitched and curled slightly. There was an invisible weight in his hand, and his eye flew open.

"Versatile," he said. Huyang straightened up.

"Come again?" he asked.

"I felt something versatile," Scrapper said, looking down at his hand. "It was round, but… a bit more ergonomic than cylindrical. It had… compartments at the bottom of the handle."

"Storage compartments?" Huyang asked, taken aback. "That may be a bit cumbersome."

"You said to go with what the Force made me feel, right?" Scrapper asked. "Well, I felt versatile compartments. Not real big, you know, just big enough to house a few tools."

"Tools?" Huyang asked, bewildered. His optics closed and opened rapidly. "We may have to take you back to the actual ship for something like that!" Scrapper looked in the boxes around him, his gaze stopping on a particular handle. It was covered in a hard plastic with a galvanized texture. It was perfectly shaped for a two-handed grip, almost as long as his forearm and thicker front-to-back than it was wide from side-to-side. The clone took it in his hands and held it in front of him.

"This is the one," he said, his eyes sparkling in awe. Huyang looked at the handle and back at the clone.

"I never thought that handle would ever see use," he said, dumbfounded. "In fact, I was almost certain that your general was going to choose it when he fashioned that handguard handle of his."

"Whoa, whoa," Zatt said, hands out in front of him. "That tall guy has a double-bladed saber _and_ a saber with a handguard? He has two different sabers?"

"Actually, he has a third," Foxx spoke up. The Younglings turned to him.

"He has _three lightsabers?!"_ Ganodi asked, bewildered. "He must be _really_ powerful!"

"Ohh, you have no idea," Foxx said with a chuckle. There was another knock on the door, and everyone turned to see a curious creature peek in. She was a Nelvaanian, a bipedal canine-like creature with pale blue fur, dark blue-green hair in a long braid, and black eyes that looked around the room. This one had gentle, elegant features under her light brown tunic that flowed as she stepped inside the room. She looked to Foxx inquisitively.

"Bahsé?" she asked slowly. Foxx smiled and stood up, giving the young female a quick hug, which she returned. Foxx then pointed down the hallway opposite from where she had come from. She was about to leave, but the clone stopped her.

"Oh," he said suddenly, gesturing to the Younglings. The young Jedi waved to her, and she waved back, a wide smile on her face. "Petro," Foxx said, putting his shoulder on the young human's shoulder, then continued with the others. "Katooni, Ganodi, Zatt, Gungi… Byph, was it?" The mentioned Youngling nodded. "Byph," Foxx repeated. The Nelvaanian nodded and repeated their names as he said each of them, then put a hand to her chest.

"Kuma," she said slowly. "Bahsé's… Padawan." She looked up and spotted the doctor, smiling and rushing over to give her a hug.

"It's good to see you're alive, too!" the doctor replied to her native chatter. The Padawan turned and shook Huyang's hand gently, and finally turned to see Scrapper with the lightsaber handle. She raised an eyebrow and looked to the professor, who shrugged.

"Scrapper," the clone said, extending a hand. Kuma looked down and hesitantly took it, giving it a slow and gentle shake. She then smiled, let go of his hand, and left the room, waving to the Younglings on her way out. Foxx stopped her again.

"Bahsé," he said, tapping his wrist comm first and then his ear. Kuma nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

"That was Bahsé's Padawan?" Ganodi asked.

"Yep," Foxx said. "Sweet girl. Her kind are known as Nelvaanians. They live in tribes on a rather snowy planet. She really likes kids, so she might be coming to see you guys once in a while." The clone suddenly straightened, his gaze focusing to space.

"What is it?" Nema asked.

"I don't think they've actually seen each other for a while," the clone said, grabbing his helmet and putting it on as he hurried out of the room.

* * *

"How in the universe did you manage to get produce this fresh?!" the cook asked, his eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. Bahsé chuckled and crossed his arms as Kayla put both her hands on the crate's edge and leaned forward, her eyes half-closed seductively.

"Oh, I have my ways," she said smoothly. The cook chuckled.

"Yes, I can see that," he said, his eyes starting to move down. A sharp clearing of the throat from Bahsé got his attention back on the food, his face flushing a deep red. Kürmé gave the Jedi a slight nudge while Kayla groaned softly and rolled her eyes, standing up straight and crossing her arms, pouting a little. She could never get away with much flirting when Big Brother Bahsé was around.

"Anyway, it's incredible that you were able to get this much fresh stuff!" the cook said. "This should be able to keep our passengers fed for at least two more months!"

"Let's not get too ambitious," Bahsé said. "I know a few of our passengers are indeed pregnant, so some of this is going to go faster than expected."

"Ah, yes," the cook said, putting the lid back on the crate and dragging it to the cooler. "Better keep it as fresh as possible then. I'll start preparing the next meal. That beast you and your squad managed to bring aboard should serve us well for perhaps a few more years."

"Now _that_ was no easy feat," the Jedi said. "One of the guys even said they were tempted to ask Kayla for seduction lessons to make things easier." The young Pantoran perked up and turned to the Jedi.

"Which guys?" she asked. Bahsé's head dropped into his hand.

"Ohhh, this isn't going to end well," he muttered. Kürmé laughed and put a hand on his back. His head came up suddenly, and his hand moved to the side of his helmet. He seemed to look off into the distance for a split second and then turned on his heel, jogging out of the room. The women turned to each other, then to the cook, shrugged, and followed him out.

"Bahsé!" Kürmé shouted after him. "Wait up! What's going on?"

"It's Kuma!" the Jedi shouted. "She's alive! She's on the ship!" The girls glanced at each other and picked up speed, their sprint just enough to catch up to his jog. They hadn't seen the young Padawan for months. The master and student weren't together when Order 66 went into effect, and Bahsé had the young one on his mind a majority of the time.

"Where?" Kayla asked. Kuma had essentially become Kayla's younger sister of sorts. She didn't have her own siblings, so having a little sister was quite a joyous experience for her.

"She said she'd meet us in the hangar!" Bahsé shouted over his shoulder. They soon turned a corner into the hangar bay. Bahsé slowed down abruptly, looking around the bay for a sign of his Padawan. A shout from the other side of the bay caught his attention, and he looked over to see Kuma running toward him, a wide smile on her face and tears in her eyes. Bahsé took his helmet off and beamed, running to embrace her. As the two met, he dropped his helmet as she leapt into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as he clasped her back, dropping to his knees. Several of the surrounding crew members burst into an applause as Kayla and Kürmé caught up and knelt down to join the embrace. Kuma brought her head back to look at her master with teary eyes.

 _"I feared you were dead,"_ she said in her native tongue.

 _"I worried about you as well, my Padawan,"_ he replied.

 _"How did you survive?"_

 _"Please,"_ Bahsé scoffed. _"You should know me by now; it'll take more than a battalion of men to take me down."_ Kuma laughed, wiped her eyes, and buried her face in his armored chest. He put a hand to the back of her head, and then reached over to bring Kürmé closer. The applause held for several minutes, and a few whistles broke out. Bahsé Sigré's family was reunited once again.


End file.
